


They Both Die At The End

by aWildLu



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe - They Both Die At The End, Angst, Character Death, Colorblind Catra, Death, F/F, Fixing Relationships, Funeral, Kinda, Mentions of Sex, Musician!Catra, Shadow Weaver | Light Spinner (She-Ra)'s A+ Parenting, Suicidal Thoughts, Swearing, eventually, last day, not really - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-13
Updated: 2020-12-06
Packaged: 2021-01-30 06:08:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 14,760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21423445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aWildLu/pseuds/aWildLu
Summary: Catra and Glimmer couldn't be more different if they tried, but they do have something in common: They're both going to die today. Spending your End Day alone isn't something anyone wants but risking that your friends and family have to watch you die isn't something you would want either. Making a friend who is dying as well is their best chance.
Relationships: Bow & Glimmer (She-Ra), Catra & Entrapta & Scorpia (She-Ra), Catra/Glimmer (She-Ra), Past Adora/Catra
Comments: 42
Kudos: 158





	1. Death-Cast

**Author's Note:**

> The AU no one asked for inspired by a book that apparently no one but me read.  
So, go and read They Both Die At The End by Adam Silvera, it's a good book.
> 
> I'm gonna try to get a new chapter up every two days or so but I can't promise anything

_The fear of death follows from the fear of life. A man who lives fully is prepared to die at any time._

-Edward Abby

* * *

Death-Cast calls Catra at exactly 12:06 am. She is too engrossed in her video game to realize it's her own phone that's ringing. Entrapta got her good right now. If she looks away for even a second she'll lose.

It's not until Scorpia turns off the TV in the middle of the game, tears running down her face, that Catra realizes what is happening. She stares. The phone stops ringing just to start again a second later, the telltale sound of the Death-Cast alert rings through the quiet apartment.

She reaches out for the phone. Her hands are shaking as she accepts the call.

"Hello, I'm calling from Death-Cast. I'm DT. You are Catra, correct?" The herald doesn't sound particularly serious, more like they're enjoying this. Telling people they're going to die.

Die. Less than 24 hours until she's dead. Nothing anyone can do about that.

She swallows. "Yes."

"Catra, I regret to inform you that sometime in the next 24 hours you'll be meeting an untimely death. And while there isn't anything we can do to suspen-"

"No," Catra interrupts DT. Her voice is scratchy and barely louder than a whisper.

"Sorry?"

"No, you don't regret telling me that." The words leave her mouth before she can stop them. That's really not the way to talk to a herald, but the way this one is talking to her is too joyful. At this point, Catra doesn't care about the impression she leaves. It's easy to fall back into old habits.

She hangs up before DT can answer. She already knows everything she needs to.

She is going to die in less than 24 hours. After all the shit she went through, after finally getting her life together, she won't be here to see the next day. It sucks, but there is nothing she can do, nothing anyone can do about it.

She sits back down. (When has she even stood up?)

The remote is cold to the touch when she picks it up to turn the TV back on. She resumes the game from where it automatically paused. Entrapta only takes a second to start playing, too. They play until Catra inevitably loses.

Their characters respawn but neither of them is paying attention to the screen anymore.

Both of her roommates are looking expectantly at Catra. Catra just stares, she isn't sure at what. Not at her bright future, that much is clear.   
Scorpia's sobs are getting louder now. Everything gets louder somehow. She is acutely aware of every noise. Every light. Every little movement.

Every breath. It could be her last.

People always want to hope against hope that maybe Death-Cast is wrong, that they're the exception. Death-Cast has never been wrong, though. If you get the alert, you die. It's just a fact. Even if no one knows how Death-Cast knows.

Catra isn't one of those hopeful people. She has experienced death, come close to it herself more than a handful of times, even wished for it to finally take her.

That was before, though. Before she pulled herself together, before she made friends with Scorpia and Entrapta, before she managed to start a musical career like she'd always dreamed. Before she got the alert.

Her breath hitches. She finds herself in Scorpia's arms so suddenly, she doesn't know how it happened. She's not crying, not really. She feels like it. Maybe this would be easier if she was. She buries her face in Scorpia's shoulder. Even Entrapta joins in the hug. One unexpected thing after another today.

They stay like that for some time. No one wants to be the one to end the possibly last hug they're ever going to get.

In the end, Catra is the one to break it.

She stands and wipes her eyes with the sleeve of her hoodie, takes a deep breath.

"So, this is it, I guess." She looks down at her friends. Scorpia is still sniffling. Entrapta has pulled down her welding mask. "I should get going."

"Get going?!" Scorpia shoots up from her seat on the floor. "Where would you go? And why? Don't you want to spend your End Day with your friends?"

The thought of just staying at home, spend more time with her friends is tempting. Catra can't say she wouldn't love to stay home and be with them all day. The thought of them having to watch her die on the other hand? That's not something she can put them through after everything they've done for her.

"I just..."

Guilt is tugging at her insides. She looks anywhere but at her friends.

Before Catra can form a coherent sentence, Scorpia is already talking again.

"Can we have one last Super Pal Trio Breakfast Party at least?"

God, she sounds so small. Catra hates how sad she makes Scorpia with this. And it's not the first time either. Maybe her old self, the old Catra she was before finding Scorpia's unwavering support, could deal better with this. Maybe it takes her going back to that attitude of hating everything and everyone to make this easier to deal with for her friends.

No, if she pushes them away now, she won't accomplish anything. After breakfast, she tells herself, she is going to go back to being old Catra, the one that didn't care about her friends. She will walk out of the apartment and not come back. It would save them the pain, at least.

"Alright, but only if you make pancakes," she says and shoots them a tentative smirk.

Scorpia smiles through her tears. It doesn't quite reach her eyes. She dashes off to the kitchen, which is objectively too small for three people.

Entrapta and Catra are left alone in the living room. Catra knows Entrapta is about as good with emotions as she herself is, so they don't talk. 

Catra sighs and sits back down in front of the worn-out couch. She picks up the Playstation controller and motions for her roommate to sit down with her. Actions speak louder than words, and words are difficult for Entrapta anyways. Catra knows what she's trying to say, though, when she wins the new round even though Entrapta could have easily annihilated her.

The game soundtrack and the cacophony of pans clanking and cabinets opening and closing are soothing. It feels more like a normal day than End Day. If the conversation stays away from death or dying or saying goodbyes, it's perfect. But this Super Pal Trio Breakfast Party is a funeral and they all know it, even if no one says it. Goodbyes are preprogrammed.

You don't usually attend your own funeral. At least, that's the way it was before Death-Cast came around. Now people get together their loved ones as soon as they get the alert. A funeral is supposed to be a celebration of life and for some people it is, but mostly it's just teary goodbyes and a lot of stories about the dying person.

Catra doesn't want any of that. She may be a Decker, a goner, but funerals are for the dead and she sure as hell isn't dead yet. And she won't act like it either. Today it's everything or nothing. Or, more accurately, everything and then nothing.

After her third win, she turns off the console. Playing against Entrapta gets boring if you win too many times in a row when you know your ass would be beaten if the scientist was actually playing.

"I should get dressed if I want to head out later." She starts in the direction of their bedrooms, but Entrapta's voice stops her before she makes it too far.

"Thank you. I liked being friends with you."

Liked. The past tense hits Catra like a bullet. Liked.

"I... like being friends with you, too, 'Trapta."

Present tense, like. She's not dead yet, after all. 


	2. Death Cast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Glimmer deals with being told she is going to die.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go, lots of angst
> 
> Big thanks to everyone who commented and left kudos. You guys really made my day and gave me enough motivation to actually finish this chapter today.

_We are dying from overthinking. We are slowly killing ourselves by thinking about everything. Think. Think. Think. You can never trust a human mind anyway. It's a death trap._

-Anthony Hopkins

* * *

It's 1:27 a.m. when Glimmer wakes up to her phone ringing on the nightstand. She is wide awake as soon as she recognizes the sound of the Death-Cast alert. She's heard it countless times on TV, after all. Pretty much every show that has come out during the last ten years or so features it.

Her eyes are already stinging with unshed tears when she finally accepts the call.

"Hello?"

"Hi. I am calling from Death-Cast. My name is Peekablue. And you there, you're Glimmer?"

There's a lump forming in her throat. Any moment now she is going to break down, she thinks.

"Yes, that's me." Her voice breaks on that last word. It's not really fair, is it? Glimmer wonders how many Deckers Peekablue has had to call tonight and how many more she will have to call. She wonders how many break down during the call. She can't imagine it being a pleasant job, being a herald for Death-Cast.

"Glimmer, I regret to inform you that sometime in the next 23 hours you will meet an untimely death. And while there isn't anything we can do to suspend that, you still have a chance to live." Peekablue goes on to tell her about various events in and around Brightmoon. Her words come with practiced ease, like she has been using this exact script countless times before. She probably has. "You can log onto death-cast.com to fill out any special requests for your funeral in addition to the inscription you'd like on your headstone."

"Ok." Glimmer doesn't know what else to say. None of the dramas she watched prepared her for this moment. Can you be prepared to be told you're going to die when you're only 20 and healthy? She shakes her head and squeezes her eyes shut.

"And Glimmer, on behalf of everone here at Death-Cast, we are so sorry to lose you. Live this day to the fullest."

Glimmer doesn't know how she can live a day like this to the fullest but she thanks the herald anyways before hanging up. As much as she wants to go back to sleep, she can't. The anxiety over dying in her sleep without getting to say goodbye to her friends is too big. But if she gets up, she will die. A million different ways her life could end in her own apartment go through her head.

She picks up her phone again and opens the group chat she has with her friends. Their last messages mock her—happy Goodnights and See-You-Tomorrows. She will see them again, at least she hopes she will.

Plans to go to the movies next week greet her as she scrolls up—plans she won't be able to attend.

She starts typing.

**FistToFaceSparkles 1:42 a.m.: Any of you guys still up?**

**ButHaveYouConsideredSwords 1:42 a.m.: Yeah. Can't sleep either?**

Adora. Of course, she'd still be awake. Adora is one of those weird people who can go to bed at like two in the morning and wake up at seven feeling perfectly refreshed. But Adora also only stays up this late because of her own anxiety. It doesn't feel fair to give her even more reasons to stay up and overthink.

**FistToFaceSparkles 1:43 a.m.: Just wanted to tell you guys how much I love you.**

**ButHaveYouConsideredSwords 1:43 a.m.: Aww, we love you, too!**

**TechMasterBow 1:43 a.m.: First of all, love you, too. Second of all, what's wrong?**

This would be the moment to tell them. Bow has always known when she wasn't alright. But she guesses, she wasn't too sneaky just now anyway. She isn't as verbal about her affection as Bow is, so that comment was sure to tip him off. Glimmer should have known better. Now they'll just worry about her.

If Adora finds out Glimmer got the alert, she is going to come over and barricade every exit to try and keep her safe. Glimmer would die in her small cramped apartment, probably slipping in the bathroom and splitting her head open, or just falling off the couch at the wrong angle. Not really how she wants to die. She doesn't want to die at all, not yet at least. She still has so much she wants to do.

She wants to get her degree, hug her mom, her friends, her Aunt Casta. She wants to see the world, go to concerts, do something dangerous and come out on top. She wants to be in a relationship, marry and then go peacefully in her sleep after living a fulfilling life.

If Bow finds out she got the alert, she might have a higher chance at crossing at least a few things off her bucket list. He'll hurt and he'll probably cry through all of it, but he's supportive and he wouldn't force her to stay inside for her own safety.

But even Bow can't keep Adora from locking them all in to beat Death-Cast and keep Glimmer alive. That's just what Adora is like, has always been like. If she's your friend she will do anything she can to take care of you, doesn't matter whether it's what you want or not. But not even Adora can protect her from death.

Glimmer lays down on her bed, legs dangling over the edge, and sighs. She'll have to tell them eventually.

She opens the private messages between herself and Bow. It's been a while since there has been something she didn't want to share with both of her friends.

**FistToFaceSparkles 1:45 a.m.: Death-Cast called me.**

She doesn't receive a response for several minutes even though Bow has read her message. He must be crying. Doing this over text wasn't her best move. She can't stomach the thought of making Bow cry and then not being there to comfort him. She sends another text.

**FistToFaceSparkles 1:52 a.m.: Can you come over?**

She immediately feels bad for asking him to come over at this time of night. She can't even be sure that he won't die on his way here. There's still over an hour left for her friends to get the alert as well. If they do, the three of them will probably die together. Or die trying to get to each other. The thought of her friends dying makes Glimmer feel even worse than the fact that she is dying.

**TechMasterBow 1:53 a.m.: On my way. Don't move.**

But she does move. She gets up, walks over to the window and opens it. She is careful to step back once it's open. She can't risk falling out of a third-story window because she needed some air to calm down. The cold night air hits her face and she takes a deep breath. In and out.

She turns around and is faced with her desk, full of unfinished homework that's due sometime this week. Reality hits her once more. None of this will ever be finished, she won't turn any of those assignments in and she won't get credit for them. She'll simply disappear off her professors' lists. One less person to teach, one test less to grade, one more empty seat in the classroom.

She lashes out. Papers go flying all over the floor, some even fly out the window. Pens scatter and a thick textbook lands on the floor to her feet. It's not fair. It's not _fair_. She grasps blindly for anything that's still on the desk, she catches hold of a pencil holder. It meets the wall and shatters on impact. Pens rocket towards her face. For a moment, Glimmer imagines that's how she goes out, a pen drilled into her brain from her outburst.

But nothing of that sort happens. She keeps throwing things. When her desk is empty she moves on to the shelf next to it. Books go flying, little trinkets and souvenirs she bought on family vacations land all over the place. She doesn't stop until she almost smashes the only picture frame she ever owned.

The picture in it is old. It shows a tiny Glimmer, maybe four years old, sitting in her father's lap. Paint is all over both of their faces but they're laughing. Glimmer doesn't actually remember when the picture was taken but it's been her favorite since she found it. Her mom said Micah died a few weeks after it was taken. It took a lot of begging before her mom finally agreed to let Glimmer keep it when she moved out.

Her breathing is heavy. Her chest heaves with every inhale. She feels dizzy. Tears are coming faster now. Sobs shake her whole body. Her knees hit the soft carpet and before long she's a crying mess.

Out of the corner of her eye, she notices the door to her room opening.

"Hey, Glimmer?"

Bow.

She must have failed to hear the doorbell during her meltdown. Fortunately, Bow has a spare key.

He wraps her up in an embrace and Glimmer has never been more thankful to have him as her friend.


	3. Goodbyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Catra isn't really sure where to go from here but she'll figure it out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the delay but as soon as I posted the last chapter, life started kicking my butt. Future chapters will take longer from now on.
> 
> This one was supposed to have something from both Glimmer and Catra's perspective but the first part turned out longer than planned so I'm splitting it up.

1:27 a.m.

The microwave clock blinks menacingly down at her when Catra finally enters the kitchen.

She's been hiding in her room for the last hour so. She knows it's not fair to her friends who just want to spend as much time with her as they can before she inevitably kicks the bucket. Hiding didn't help her when she was a child, and it won't help her now.

Both Scorpia and Entrapta are already sitting at the table. Entrapta is mumbling one thing or another into her recorder while practically dissecting a pancake. Pretty normal for her.

Scorpia, on the other hand, is nervously rearranging and re-rearranging the sprinkles on the table.

"Hey." Catra sits down in her usual seat and pulls one leg up to rest her chin on her knee.

"Catra!" Scorpia exclaims, jumping up. The chair falls over behind her and clatters to the floor. Scorpia walks over to Catra's side of the table and awkwardly hugs her. "You didn't die! I was starting to worry that you-"

"I hardly think I can die in my bedroom, Scorp," Catra interrupts. Normally, she'd struggle out of the hug by now.

"Technically speaking, if you were to spend your entire End Day in your room, you would have to die in it, too," Entrapta pipes up, having finally put down her recorder. Her welding mask is back on top of her head.

Catra gives Scorpia's shoulder a half-hearted shove. "I'm not going to spend all day in my room."

"Yes, of course, but, uhm, maybe you shouldn't go out there all by yourself? You know, for- for safety reasons and all is what I'm saying?" Scorpia is gesturing wildly with one hand while picking up her chair with the other. She sighs.

No one can stop Catra once she has an objective. Catra knows that Scorpia knows that. But Scorpia also knows that Catra isn't as hardcore as she seems.

Catra looks away. The guilt is back and seeing Scorpia so worried isn't something she can just ignore. Stupid Decker Guilt.

"Look, I'll get a Last Friend or something if that would make it better?"

The Last Friend app has been around for a few years now. It's an opportunity for Deckers to find someone to spend their End Day with, and an opportunity for others to extend their friendship to someone who needs it. Scorpia considered becoming a Last Friend for Deckers before Catra reminded her that she'd have to deal with knowing that the people she'd hang out with would die a few hours later. Catra still doesn't see the appeal of spending time with a stranger you're never going to see again and acting like you're best friends.

Scorpia seems pretty surprised by her offer. She stands with the chair in her hand for a solid minute before putting it down and finally sitting down. "I mean, I don't want to force you to do anything you don't want to. It's your E- your day."

Catra rolls her eyes. _Her day_. It's not her goddamn birthday.

"But it would make you feel better, I get it," she says. Sighing, she stabs three pancakes off the giant stack and drags them onto her own plate. Somehow, she isn't hungry anymore.

Entrapta is still watching her, though the curiosity on her face has a slightly different energy to it than when she's doing some weird science experiment. It's unnerving in a way that isn't unusual to any of them but still weird.

Catra raises an eyebrow at her.

"What inscription are you putting on your headstone?" Entrapta asks, sounding way too excited.

Catra probably would have expected that question, had she remembered that something like headstones existed and that she got to choose what it said.

She thinks about it for a moment. "Probably 'local asshole' or something like that."

Scorpia puts her fork down with a little too much force.

"You're not an asshole!"

"Ok, how about 'former asshole'? You can't deny that I was a total bitch not too long ago."

They go on arguing for a few more minutes, Catra proposing various ways to degrade herself and Scorpia vehemently refusing with Entrapta chiming in now and again about some inaccuracies. In the end, they settle on some Latin quote Entrapta suggests.

"I think it describes your way of life really well," she says. And it's true.

_Si vis pacem, para bellum_. If you want peace, prepare for war.

Even if Catra never willfully seeks out peace and quiet. She thrives in chaos and rebellion.

It's not something she would have chosen herself but there is no denying that it fits. She could just put the English version on her headstone but the Latin makes it more cryptic.

"Maybe someone will actually think I'm-... I was smart." It's supposed to be a joke but that last part, having to talk about herself in the past tense, takes the wind out of her sails and she sighs.

Scorpia is already looking at her like she's about to cry again. Her expression changes to determination then. "You are smart!" she says. She sounds more offended at that comment than at the 'local asshole' one even though neither of them is about her.

Catra decides not to make any more self-depreciating jokes today. At least not where Scorpia can hear them.

"Okay, okay, maybe you're right." She is about to actually start eating her pancakes after having them untouched on her plate for half an hour when Scorpia stops her.

"Wait! What if you choke on the pancakes? Ohhh this was a bad idea. I shouldn't have made them! You're gonna-"

Catra ignores her, if just for a second, and takes a bite before interrupting Scorpia with her mouth full, "Scorpia, I know how to eat." She almost finishes all three pancakes before her friend has calmed down enough to start eating as well.

By the time they're all finished it's close to 2:30.

Catra goes back into her room to get a jacket. She briefly considers taking her guitar with her but quickly discards that idea. It would be inconvenient to carry it on her bike. She grabs the leather jacket Scorpia got her back when they'd just met and Scorpia forced her to go to a Pride parade. There's a lesbian flag on the back, though Catra isn't sure which one. She only knows there are different versions but they all look the same to her anyways.

When she exits her room, her friends are waiting at the apartment door. She gets her combat boots and kneels down to tie them.

"Sooo... where are you going?" Scorpia asks.

Catra ponders for a second. "Somewhere, places, not sure yet but I'm paying the old witch one last visit so she knows I'll haunt her for all eternity."

She can feel Scorpia's scowl burning into the back of her head. Her friend has always been more of a "let go and move on" kind of person. Catra, on the other hand, can hold a grudge for as long as she lives and beyond. She wouldn't call the burning hatred she feels for the woman who raised her a grudge, though.

Her original plan was to outlive the witch and dance on her grave but now she'll have to make do with haunting her as a ghost. She'll move on to the afterlife once the witch returns to the deepest levels of hell where she belongs.

An awkward silence starts when Scorpia doesn't reprimand Catra as she should.

"No lecture this time?"

"You do what you need to do to go in peace, Wildcat," Scorpia answers.

The way it's worded, Catra can't help but feel a spark of anger. She almost snaps at Scorpia for making it sound like she's on her death bed.

But she is, isn't she? There is no guarantee, she'll even make it down the stairs, let alone the dark streets of Brightmoon. No one knows what could happen out there, especially in the middle of the night.

She takes a deep breath and looks over to Entrapta who is nervously fidgeting with a strand of her hair. She doesn't really know what to say—last words suck— so she doesn't say anything as she steps toward the door, the only thing separating her from the outside world. She hesitates.

Catra turns around and grabs them both in one last hug. The surprised gasps she hears bring some of the guilt back. She hasn't been the best friend to them and they definitely deserved better than her. And yet, she wouldn't trade those two for anything.

She steps back, turns around, and swings the door open.

"I'll keep you updated," she says. It's a lie. As soon as she's outside, she will block their numbers. It's an asshole move but she knows if she doesn't do this, she'll hang on her phone until it's too late.

Scorpia and Entrapta smile at her.

She closes the door.

The building is quiet at this time of night. No one in their right mind would be out and about in the Fright Zone if it wasn't absolutely necessary. No one but Catra. She's grown up in this part of town, she knows which alleys to avoid and which will lead her to her destination the fastest.

Halfway down the stairs, she notices that she forgot her helmet. She considers going back for it but quickly decides it would be a stupid idea. She wouldn't leave again if she did. Besides, she's going to die anyway, it's not like the helmet is going to save her.

She checks her pockets to make sure she hasn't forgotten anything else. Phone, key, wallet, sunglasses, lighter. Everything where it belongs. She checks her phone battery and blocks Scorpia and Entrapta's contacts while she's at it. 70% should get her through most of the day.

She skips the last three steps, instead opting to jump over the stair-rail, and makes her way to the small garage where her motorbike is waiting for her. She swipes her keycard and the garage door automatically opens while she walks over to the bike. She gets on and kicks it into gear. It springs to life beneath her. For a moment, Catra closes her eyes and just enjoys the purr of the engine.

Going for a ride has always helped her clear her head, though this time it'll probably be the death of her before she even leaves the street.

She thinks of all the things she is going to miss—if you can miss anything when you're dead— and the things she regrets. Her friends come to mind, Scorpia, Entrapta, even Kyle, Rogelio, and Lonnie. And Adora. She regrets not making up with Adora. She regrets all those missed opportunities, all the times she could have made a difference, had a good time instead of brooding. She regrets a lot of things.

She shakes her head and exhales a shaky breath. Her life really has been one bad decision after another if she thinks about it. She doesn't have time to think about it anyways.

The way to the orphanage is so ingrained in her brain she doesn't even think about it. She passes blurry signs and defective streetlights, the odd car on the road. She speeds through the streets, running red lights, taking too sharp turns.

This is what being alive feels like, she thinks. Adrenaline running through her veins, nothing keeping her back, no worries about tomorrow. She can do whatever she wants with no regard for what happens next.

But it's over way too soon. The old decrepit building comes into view. Pipes run along the walls and most windows have bars over them. Not a place where children should grow up.

Catra knows every inch of it, even those she shouldn't. Ms. Weaver's study is one of them, rarely any child gets to see behind the big wooden doors. If they do, they better pray they'll ever see the outside again. Catra shudders.

The motion sensor light turns on as she slows to a stop near the entrance. "Horde Orphanage and Foster Care" used to be written up there. Only a few of the letters are still legible. No lights are turned on inside, no one is up anymore.

Catra considers ding dong ditching but the camera hidden in the door's blind spot would take the fun out of it and probably get the cops on her case. Weaver would make sure of that. Catra settles on staring dead into the camera instead and flipping it off.

Once she leaves the little side street, she realizes she doesn't even know where she is going. She could go everywhere but she also doesn't want to go anywhere. The only place that feels like everywhere and nowhere at the same time is the abandoned warehouse at the edge of town.

It's where she and Adora used to ride to on the only bicycle the orphanage has ever owned, Adora on the front and Catra holding on to the bike rack behind her. It's where they escaped to when "home" became too much. When Adora left, Catra kept going there on her own, if only because of the many memories attached to it. Countless conversations about meaningful nothings and meaningless everythings. Jumping off the roof as a dare and walking home with Adora's arm around her shoulders because the other girl landed wrong and broke her foot.

The first time Catra came out to anyone and Adora subsequently coming out to her a week later. Sharing their first kiss. Falling in and out of love. And in the end, everything falling apart.

The place looks just like the last time Catra was there. Graffiti on the walls and garbage littering the floor. The ladder on the back wall still looks sturdy enough. It doesn't give in when she climbs up. Catra considers that a definite plus but it could still fall apart when she tries to get down again.

She sits down at the edge of the roof, just above the door and leans back. It's too early to watch the sunrise but the sky is clear and the stars are out. She can't really see them, though. It's what you get for not wearing your glasses. The moon is shining down at her, it's nearly full.

Maybe she really should get a Last Friend. It's pretty lonely all, well, alone. She really should have learned her lesson by now. She gets out her phone to download the app. The Internet is crappy in the little forest but it doesn't take long to finish. She's about to open it when she gets a Twitter notification.

It's just someone liking the last tweet she hasn't muted yet. _I guess I should let my followers know, huh_, she thinks.

She takes a selfie, slaps a black and white filter on it—just to be sure the colors aren't completely off— and stops. How does she announce this? Just "R.I.P."? That's not even close to appropriate. A joke would be nice. She'd get lots of hate for it but she won't be around to deal with it anyway.

She looks around on the roof, leaves, used condoms, plastic bottles, energy drink cans, someone's left shoe. And an old, rusty bucket. She knows what she is going to do.

Two minutes later she hits Send Tweet. It just says "Happy I'm-Kicking-The-Bucket-Day" with a video of her kicking the bucket off the roof attached. She mutes it before anyone can comment.

_Time for the Last Friend app._

The first thing it does is ask whether she's a Decker or not. Straight to business. She clicks yes and a little message about how sorry they are to lose her pops up. She fills out the profile. Name, age, gender, orientation, hobbies, job, those are easy. The next one is a little more complicated.

"Who You Were In Life". She doesn't think, many people would talk to her if she just puts down "I was a major asshole for most of my life". Bucket List is another hard one, there isn't really much she really needs to do. It would be nice to play a song or two in front of an audience for the last time, though.

The Final Thoughts section has her typing and deleting various thoughts she isn't sure she can openly share with the world.

To make it final, she adjusts her settings so only other Deckers can see her profile. No point in making someone else watch her die and making them live with it.


	4. Goodbyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Glimmer and Bow work out a game plan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all can thank my irl friends for this chapter because they basically forced me to finish it today.
> 
> Enjoy!

Glimmer can't tell how long their embrace lasts. Seconds, minutes, maybe an hour? Her sobs have died down into quiet sniffles. Bow's too. It's quiet in her room now that she's calmed down.

She extracts her arm from where it's sandwiched between Bow's chest and her shoulder and wipes her eyes.

Bow lets go of her. His eyes are red, his hair a mess. And he's still wearing his pajamas. He must have jumped straight out of bed to get to her. He pushes some stray hairs out of her eyes.

"Better?" His voice is barely louder than a whisper.

Glimmer leans further into him. "Yeah," she sighs, "thanks."

She is the luckiest person on earth to have Bow as her best friend, she thinks. She doesn't know what she would have done without him. Break down even more, probably, destroy more of her possessions. She'll have to clean this mess up. Bow would probably help her, though.

She breathes in his scent. He smells like the woods and old books and cinnamon. He smells like home. And she'll have to leave him behind. She exhales a shaky breath. His arms come down gently on her shoulders and she looks up.

"How about I make you some tea to calm down?" His smile is gentle, but Glimmer knows he's freaking out internally.

"You mean, you make yourself some tea to calm down," she teases. Yes, teasing is good. Teasing is normal. It's natural. Nothing has to change just because she's... because she won't be here tomorrow.

"Ok, how about this? I make tea for both of us to calm down." Bow gets up and walks toward the small kitchen area. He doesn't stop to look whether she's following him when he enters the kitchen and starts rummaging around in her cupboards. He knows where everything is since he practically lives at the apartment, too, so Glimmer doesn't bother helping him find anything. Instead, she pulls herself up on her now-empty desk and flops down on the couch.

"Whatever makes you sleep at night." Sleep sounds pretty good right now. All that crying and lashing out has taken a lot out of her. Combined with the less than two hours of sleep she's had that's... a whole lot of tired, she concludes.

"Well, you certainly don't," Bow counters. He's already putting in the tea bags. He carries the mugs over to the coffee table and settles down next to Glimmer. "So, what's the plan?"

She doesn't really have a plan. Between getting the alert and smashing everything in her room, a game plan was the last thing on her mind. Plans have always been Adora's thing. Adora whom she'll have to face today, too. That is a thing she'll definitely need a plan for, make sure Adora doesn't lock her in somewhere to keep her safe.

"Survive as long as possible?" she offers with a sheepish smile.

Bow frowns but doesn't say anything.

"Ok, how about I tell Adora to meet up for lunch and then hope I make it that far into the day?" She adds some fake enthusiasm to cover the shakiness of her voice. The shrillness surprises even herself. She's terrified.

Dying is terrifying.

Not thinking about it and ignoring it won't make it go away, though. She doesn't want to talk to Bow about this. She doesn't want to talk to anyone about this. She doesn't want to make a plan for her End Day. _She doesn't want to die._

She wonders if it would be better if Death-Cast didn't exist. Back Death-Cast just established itself, when it wasn't integrated into people's everyday lives yet, she spent hours pondering if she could have saved her dad, if they would have spent the day in a different way. Now she wishes Death-Cast didn't exist, if only so she could spend her last day without worrying about every little detail or feeling like she's leaving everyone behind.

"Ok... that's the beginning of a plan." Bow removes the tea bags from the mugs. "What do we do in the meantime?"

"We?" Glimmer hasn't even thought about that. Of course, Bow wouldn't want to leave her side. They've always been practically attached at the hip. But being with her today puts him at risk even if he doesn't get the alert, he can still get injured. "I don't know, maybe it would be better if you didn't..." She doesn't finish the sentence. She really doesn't want to leave him but making sure he's ok is even more important.

"If I didn't what? Glimmer, there is no way I am not going to be by your side today!" The determination in his voice is touching but Glimmer has already made a decision.

"If you stay with me, you might get hurt. I'm not letting that happen!"

"Glimmer..."

"Bow."

They stare at each other. Neither of them looks away, neither of them is backing down.

The ringing of a phone makes Glimmer jump. The room goes from too quiet to too loud in a heartbeat. She expects the standard Death-Cast sound. Her heart skips a beat. It takes her a few seconds to recognize it's just Bow's normal ringtone. She exhales in relief but it's short-lived when she sees who's calling.

A picture of Adora, sitting on her horse and holding a sword, shows up on the screen.

Bow looks back and forth between Glimmer and his phone before answering and putting it on speaker.

"Bow! Thank god. Do you know what's going on with Glimmer? She didn't answer after you asked what's wrong and now she isn't answering her phone at all. Did she go back to sleep? Did she message you? Did something happen? Did someone die? Was someone in an accident?" Adora isn't even breathing between sentences. The sentences themselves are barely recognizable as sentences with how fast she's talking. Adora is really worked up about this.

Bow has to interrupt her to even get a word in. "Adora, calm down. I'm with Glimmer right now so don't worry."

"Is she alright?" Worry is still evident in her voice but she sounds less panicked now.

"Yes, I'm alright, Adora. Just had a bad dream and couldn't sleep so I asked Bow to come over," she lies. Bow shoots her a disapproving look. Glimmer puts on her best what-was-I-supposed-to-say face and shrugs. She's a good enough liar to fool Adora but not really anyone else.

She can almost hear the gears turn in Adora's head.

"I could come over, too," Adora offers hesitantly. It's pretty obvious she's hurt by Glimmer not asking her to come over.

"No, no, it's alright," Glimmer begins before realizing how bad that sounds, "you have a test in a few hours, wouldn't want to keep you from studying." _Nice save, even if you sounded a tad nervous there._

"Right." Adora sounds really disappointed. The guilt is almost enough to make Glimmer backtrack and ask her over after all.

Fortunately, Bow swoops in to save her. "How about we all meet up for lunch? You can tell us how your test went and Glimmer can tell you about her _dream_." He puts a lot of emphasis on the 'dream' part. Bow hates lying to his friends and his friends lying to each other. If Bow is somehow involved, any and all lies will be revealed and apologized for.

Glimmer hopes apologizing is enough this time, too.

They agree to meet at The Beacon around noon. The Beacon is a small diner near the park where they first met Adora who was working as a waitress there to afford college at the time. They hung out there almost every day back then. It's been a while since they've been there, though. Mara, the girl who owns The Beacon, even called to check if they were still alive a few days ago.

Bow ends the call and puts his phone away. He takes a long sip of his tea before sighing and looking at her like a disappointed parent.

"Why didn't you tell her?" he asks.

"I was scared."

"Of what?" His expression morphs into concern, though Glimmer is sure he's been concerned this whole time. _It's not like his friend is dying or something, no._

Glimmer could kick herself. She should have just said she didn't tell Adora because it wouldn't be appropriate over the phone. On the other hand, she did text Bow about it. She isn't even sure what she is actually afraid will happen if she tells anyone else.

"I don't know."

She can't even get her thoughts in order anymore. Images of her telling her mom she got the alert, her dad in a casket, his grave, her own headstone right next to his, all flood her mind. If she tells her other friends, they'll maybe hug her and tell her how much they'll miss her but there is nothing that hurts more than imagining her closest friends crying at her funeral without her there to comfort them.

Tears are clouding her vision, everything blurs.

She wipes them away with her sleeve. Crying again won't change anything, she'll just lose time. The tears keep coming. It's frustrating but Bow's arms are around her in an instant.

"That's ok. Let's make sure you make it to lunch then, yeah?"

She nods into his shoulder, gets her breathing back under control. Deep breaths.

Bow is doing something behind her back. When she turns around she sees him downloading an app on _her phone_.

"What are you doing?"

Bow turns so they can both look at the screen comfortably. He opens the app. The download was surprisingly fast.

"I thought, since you didn't want to risk me, and by extension probably all of our other friends, getting hurt, it would be a good idea to get you a Last Friend. They can make sure you make it to lunch on time and you get to cross some things off your bucket list," he explains.

It does make sense but spending the day with a total stranger seems kind of dangerous. Glimmer isn't sure she's completely on board with this idea. She nods and takes the phone from Bow's hands regardless. Together they fill out her profile rather fast and start browsing other people's profiles.

Over 40000 users are registered, around half of them are online right now. Most of the users are Deckers but some aren't, they're not dying yet. They just want to give a Decker some pleasant memories before it's over. Glimmer has a deep respect for those people who can put any thought of dying behind them and be a friend to a random stranger who needs one.

It doesn't even take a minute before the first messages start coming in. Most aren't from Deckers. They're from people asking if she's giving away the furniture she won't need anymore or invitations to drug parties. Some guy even tries to get her to have sex with him. Disgusting.

Glimmer ignores all incoming messages from that point on and swipes through various profiles. One, in particular, catches her interest. The profile picture shows a girl around Glimmer's age squatting in front of a motorcycle. There's a rainbow flag in the background. Somehow she looks familiar.

**Name:** Catra LastNameNotImportant  
**Age:** 22  
**Gender:** Female  
**Height:** Tall enough to punch you  
**Weight:** What are you, a cop?  
**Ethnicity:** I wish I knew, Middle Eastern?  
**Orientation:** Disaster Lesbian  
**Job:** Musician  
**Interests:** Girls, Music, World Domination  
**Favorite Movies / TV Shows / Books:** <skip>  
**Who You Were In Life:** An absolute disaster but here we are  
**Bucket List:** Get up on stage one last time, be gay do crime  
**Final Thoughts:** I regret a lot of things, I just hope I won't regret this, too.

Catra sounds like someone who doesn't take shit from anyone. That's someone Glimmer might need to get through most of the day. She types a quick message and hits send.

**Glimmer G. (3:02 a.m.):** Hey, how are you holding up

She doesn't get an answer for several minutes. For a second she fears that Catra might already be dead, but then she does answer.

**Catra L. (3:06 a.m.):** holding on, you?  
**Glimmer G. (3:06 a.m.):** Same more or less  
**Glimmer G. (3:07 a.m.):** Do you know how you're spending your End Day yet?  
**Catra L. (3:07 a.m.):** really depends on whether or not I find someone to hang out with  
**Catra L. (3:08 a.m.):** why? you got something in mind?

Glimmer looks over at Bow. His expression is unreadable. She really hopes Catra isn't going to be one of those perverts.

**Glimmer G. (3:08 a.m.):** Not really I guess, but I probably need someone to get me out of the house   
**Catra L. (3:08 a.m.):** I can arrange that  
**Catra L. (3:09 a.m.):** if you give me your address I can get you

Bow is looking at her like she's crazy as Glimmer types in her address and hits send. It's risky but not going out won't decrease her chances of dying either. She really, really, really hopes Catra isn't a murderer.

Catra confirms the address and says that she'll be there in 20 minutes.

Glimmer supposes she should get dressed but the anticipation has her sitting on the sofa next to Bow for another ten minutes. Neither of them talking, just quietly enjoying each other's company for what could be the last time.

She gets up and turns to face Bow. He's looking up at her, though he looks far away, lost in his own thoughts.

"I'm gonna get ready," she says and turns on her heel. On the table, she notices the mugs. Hers is still full. She hasn't even taken a single sip of her tea, and frankly, she doesn't want it anymore. Walking into her room, she closes the door behind her and views the complete chaos she has left in her wake.

The picture of her and her dad is sitting on the ground unharmed. She picks it up and removes the frame, folds in fourths and sets it aside to take it with her later. Clothes are strewn pretty much everywhere but nothing she particularly wants to wear tonight.

Once she is dressed she puts the folded-up photograph in her pocket. Before she leaves the confines of her room for the last time, she stands in front of the door and takes a few deep breaths.

When she finally faces Bow again, he looks slightly uncomfortable, probably because Glimmer hasn't even talked to Catra for five minutes and she's already prepared to take off with her. The chance that Catra could turn out to be dangerous is hanging in the air between them. Glimmer can see Bow getting ready to say something.

"Don't," she cuts him off before he can even start, "this was your idea. I got a Last Friend. She could be dangerous. But at the end of the day, it doesn't change anything and we both know it so let's just... not."

The walk down the stairs is silent, only their own steps echoing on the tiles.

Outside they don't have to wait too long. After less than a minute the headlight of a motorcycle becomes visible. It slows down until Glimmer can make out the vague outline of a person. When the bike stops in front of her, Glimmer swallows. This is it.

"_Hey, princess._"


	5. Afterlife

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am really sorry about how long it took me to publish this. School and depression are kicking my butt and I am trying to stay on top but it's not going well right now. Fortunately, I only have three more days of school before Christmas break starts.  
The chapter is only half as long as I'd hoped it would be but I started writing the first 400 words two weeks ago and finished it in only the last to days, so it's neither beta read nor edited.  
In short: Started making it, had a breakdown. Bon appétit.

_The real question of life after death isn't whether or not it exists, but even if it does what problem this really solves._

-Ludwig Wittgenstein

* * *

  
  
In hindsight trusting a complete stranger with her life might not have been Glimmer's best decision. They aren't even on the road yet when doubt hits her like a freight train. She should really go back inside, lay down in bed and not move until noon. Her bucket list may be big but her fear of dying is bigger. She tries to remind herself that staying home won't change a thing but it just increases her anxiety. 

Catra doesn't seem to notice Glimmer's internal conflict as she gets back onto the motorcycle. She leans forward and looks expectantly at Glimmer.

"Oh hell no!" she exclaims, "Two Deckers on a motorbike? Do you have a death wish?"

Catra chuckles. "Maybe." A pause. Glimmer is about to say something else when Catra continues. "I don't know about you but I'd rather go out with a bang on this baby," she pets the front of her bike, "than suffocate in a subway tunnel."

It does make sense even if the probability of a tunnel just suddenly collapsing is pretty small. Glimmer can see where she's coming from.

"The subway would be perfectly safe," she says. She gets on behind Catra anyways. "No helmet?"

"What good would it do?"

Glimmer considers it for a moment. Wearing a helmet would definitely be safer but if there was an accident they'd have to spend the last of their End Day in hospital if they survived. If they didn't, the day would be over. In the end, she wouldn't get to finish the day how she wants to either way.

Actually, scratch that. Even if they don't get in an accident, she won't get to end the day the way she wants to.

She hums, half in agreement, half in thought.

Catra twists so she's kind of facing Glimmer. She takes Glimmer's hands and wraps them around her own torso and twists back. She kicks the bike into gear and looks over shoulder one last time.

"Hold on tight and don't let go!" she instructs.

From this close, Glimmer can see that her eyes are two different colors, one blue and one gold. She doesn't get a lot of time to look at them, though. Catra is already looking away and Glimmer is so startled when the bike starts moving that she instinctively tightens her grip around Catra and buries her face between the other girl's shoulders. She can feel muscles stretching underneath her grip.

The wind doesn't hit her in the face but her hair is pushed back by it. So is Catra's. The moment Glimmer dares remove her face from her back she has dark hair in both her mouth and eyes so she resigns to pressing back into Catra.

They speed down the streets of Brightmoon. Glimmer watches the streetlights zip past in the corner of her eye. They lean down dangerously low turning corners. It is only when they stop at a red light that she realized she doesn't even know where they're going. She peeks out from behind Catra to see where they are.

A big crossing in the middle of the city. There are closed shops and restaurants, some 24-hour diners and a gas station surrounding them. Cars are moving from left to right, right to left.

Catra is staring dead ahead. Glimmer isn't sure whether she's watching the traffic, the red light or nothing at all. In the harsh light of the oncoming cars and bright street lights, the stranger in front of her looks almost like she's glowing with some kind of hidden magic, like she's not from this world. Combined with that glazed look in her eyes, she looks far away. Even though they're physically pressed together, Glimmer feels the distance between them.

They're strangers. They know virtually nothing about each other. But still, they decided to spend their last day together.

When she finally asks where they're going, she can feel Catra startle, can feel her muscles contract like she forgot Glimmer was there.

* * *

"Where are we going?"

Catra snaps back into reality. She exhales slowly and forces herself to relax.

"I don't know. I'm not the one with a bucket list a mile long."

"You don't even know where we're going?!" the girl, Glimmer, exclaims. Her voice rises at least three octaves.

Catra closes her eyes. She really thought she wouldn't have to endure someone screaming into her ears like that ever again. Think again. Something inside her is telling her to just ditch the girl and go on on her own so no one can hurt her again. She thought that wouldn't happen anymore after Scorpia either but no, that's back, too.

She ignores it. She leans her head back and looks over her shoulder at the girl. "So where to, princess?" she drawls.

From the corner of her eye, Catra watched the traffic light go from red to yellow to green. Glimmer looks taken aback by her question.

She pulls her leg back up from where it was supporting the bike on the streets and drives.

Streetlights pass by in a blur. The buildings and cars around them are smudged into a monotonous background of light and shadow. Catra doesn't pay a lot of attention to it. Everything just looks the same after a while.

It makes her anxious. After a whole life of wondering what will happen next and where the next blow will come from, getting used to anything can be dangerous. Nothing happens for a while, everything starts to become the same, you do the same thing every day, get into a routine. Things blur with the monotony of it all.

And then, just like that, everything happens at once. Nothing is the way it was before, everything is upside down and you're left wondering how you survived.

But that's the joke, isn't it? She won't survive this. Nothing will be upside down because there won't be anything left. Not anything of her anyway.

They pass another few junctions before Glimmer nudges her with her chin. "Island Cemetery," she says. Catra can barely understand her through the noise of the wind and the bike and her own thoughts. She doesn't acknowledge the statement, just adjusts the route in her head and keeps driving.

Island Cemetery isn't far from where they are so it only takes them a few minutes until the gate comes into view.

Island is Brightmoon's biggest cemetery. Most people who don't live in the Fright Zone are buried here. Glimmer will probably be buried here, Catra thinks. She doesn't really understand why one would visit a cemetery on their End Day but here they are.

She parks the bike near the entrance and waits for Glimmer to get off before she puts down the stand and gets off herself. They both stand there for a minute and admire the gate. It's bigger than Catra expected. She's never actually been to this cemetery—or any cemetery for that matter. She always figured she'd go once she had a reason to and she hasn't had a good reason to go until now. Although, whether following a stranger to a cemetery in the dead of the night was a good reason, is probably up for debate.

She glances over at Glimmer. The girl hasn't moved since Catra's last looked so she nudges her.

"You goin' in or what?"

Glimmer is still looking at the gate when she answers, "It's closed." She sounds unsure.

Catra rolls her eyes. She takes a few steps forward and grabs one of the metal bars that are part of the gate. She hoists herself up so she is halfway up and looks down. "So?" she asks. She keeps climbing. Once at the top, she swings one leg over the gate and looks back down. She raises an eyebrow, though she's not sure Glimmer can see her in the low light of the single street lantern.

Glimmer seems to have taken a few steps closer. She has one hand on the bars Catra has just scaled.

"This is trespassing. It's illegal!" She stomps her foot on the last word for emphasis.

Catra once again rolls her eyes. She jumps down opposite of where Glimmer is standing and puts on her best sarcastic face. "Oh no! And what are they gonna do about that?" She taps her chin with her index finger a few times while looking off into the distance. "Send me a fine I can't pay?" She smirks.

Glimmer opens her mouth to say something and pauses. Then she scowls, grabs the bars and hoists herself up with seemingly more effort than it would take Catra to scale the fence three times in a row. She's grumbling incoherently all the way up. Catra notes that Glimmer lands all wrong and consequently falls over backward when she reaches the ground.

_Must not have a lot of experience_, Catra thinks, _of course not, she's a city princess. _

She holds out her hand to help Glimmer up but the gesture is ignored. She follows her down the main path between rows of tombstones and wooden crosses. Old statues glare at them out of the darkness. There are burning candles on a few graves but mostly the flames are dying, only flickering now and again. A cold breeze wafts over the cemetery and the lights immediately surrounding them die.

"You know," Catra starts quietly, "if we get killed by a ghost, I'm suing you."

"How do you sue someone who's dead?" Glimmer retorts. She's obviously trying to sound tough but there's a slight trembling in her voice.

"I'm ghost-suing you."

"Do you believe in ghosts?"

The question stuns Catra momentarily. Does she believe in ghosts? Most days she'd simply say no but tonight something stops her. Maybe it's that sliver of hope that she won't be completely gone by the end of the day. She huffs.

"Do you?"

"I don't know."

They walk in silence until Glimmer suddenly takes a left turn.

Catra doesn't follow at first. Visiting someone's grave isn't her thing. Or maybe she just feels that way because she's never visited one before. The people she's lost haven't died. She simply pushed them away, made one too many mistakes and they left. She doesn't blame them anymore.

The wind picks up again. It pulls at her jacket and hair and makes her shiver. She zips the jacket all the way up and follows Glimmer.

The city princess is too far away by now for Catra to see her so she hopes there are no more turns she has to make. A light pops up right in front of her and she stills. Slowly the outlines of a person begin to take shape. She watches as Glimmer puts down a candle—Where did she even get a candle? Did she bring it?—and stares longingly at the tombstone in front of her.

Catra can't read the inscription from where she's standing. She doubts she could read it if she was nearer. She guesses whoever is buried here must mean a lot to Glimmer. She can't understand what Glimmer is saying either. At first, she thinks it must be because she's whispering but the longer she listens—she feels kind of bad about eavesdropping—the more pieces her brain puts together until she finally figures out that Glimmer is speaking a different language. Korean maybe? It sounds like the music Entrapta listens to.

When Glimmer finishes talking to the grave, Catra kneels next to her. She knows she probably shouldn't ask but she can't help it. Curiosity killed the cat and all.

"Who...?"

She doesn't have to finish the question for Glimmer to answer, "My dad. He died when I was small. Traffic accident, the road was slippery and the car collided with another vehicle."

It sounds like Glimmer has had to tell this story a lot but the pain is still clearly visible on her face. Time may heal all wounds but wounds leave scars. Catra understands that. She has enough of those.

Catra doesn't really know what to say so she says nothing. They sit there for a while, just the light from the candle and the howling of the wind surrounding them. When the first raindrops hit the asphalt they make their way back to the entrance.

"Do... do you think there's an afterlife?" Glimmer asks as she's climbing the gate behind Catra who considers it for a moment.

She doesn't answer until she is back on solid ground. "I don't think so, but I do hope there is one. Getting reborn into this world would suck." _This one life has already been bad enough._

"Reincarnation?"

"It's something my roommate kept blabbering on about for a while last year, I guess I picked up on that somewhat."

Glimmer is swinging her leg over the top of the gate. She's about to reply when Catra beats her to it, "Try bending your knees a bit when you land. Makes it easier not to fall over."

Glimmer does as she's told. She stumbles when she hits the ground but she doesn't fall.

"I'd like to believe everyone has their own individual afterlife but if you want you can visit other people's. Everyone's afterlife is different, like everyone has their own little dimension just to themselves." A pause. "Is that weird?"

Catra makes a beeline for her bike. "Ehh, I've heard weirder," she says as she mounts it and kicks back the stand. Glimmer gets on behind her, still a little hesitant but less tense than the first time.

"Like what?"

"Like maybe this is hell and we're all doomed for eternal suffering." _It feels accurate._

She doesn't wait for Glimmer's response before starting the engine and getting back onto the road. Not for the first time that night, she asks herself why she is telling a complete stranger about what she believes in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, Entrapta listens to K-Pop, sue me.  
Glimmer is half Korean and bilingual because I said so and no one can stop me.  
Fun fact: I have like two more plot points planned but I know I have to come up with more. Most of these chapters are just me improvising and seeing where the hell I'm going with this. Basically, I know as much about this story as you do.


	6. Rain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Telling your friends you're going to die is hard, but so is telling your parents. Glimmer isn't sure how she expected this to go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, this fic is still alive.  
Yes, I am still alive.  
No, I'm not okay but that's a different story.
> 
> This fic feels like a zombie and I'm sorry I haven't updated in almost a year. I thought I'd get some writing done during the initial quarantine but then I didn't and here we are now. It's like the busiest time in school for me right now but I want to finish this fic at some point and I recently got my book back from a friend so now I can write again.

Catra checks her phone as she waits in line to pay for gas. It’s surprising how many people are actually up at this time of day. It’s barely 5 but there’s like ten people in front of her. Why are they even there? There’s no way in hell there’s enough space to fit ten cars at once at this tiny-ass station. 

A bunch of Twitter notifications that she ignores and some more Last Friend messages pop up. She scoffs and deletes the app. She already has a Last Friend. If she fucks this up, it’s just not meant to be. 

She looks over at her Last Friend. Glimmer is browsing the single aisle looking at different energy drinks. Catra rolls her eyes. She hadn’t taken Glimmer for someone who drinks energy and her assumption is basically proven right by the way she’s reading the list of ingredients on every single can. Like the ingredients actually matter. As long as it keeps you awake and doesn’t kill you, it’s good enough for Catra. But she guesses the little princess needs something special, only the best for Brightmoon’s residence rich girl.

She shouldn’t complain, though. After all, Glimmer did offer to pay for gas and, while she does have enough money at this point, Catra isn’t one to just reject money—unless it’s Scorpia’s. Scorpia always pays for everything and that’s _too much_.

After an eternity, Catra finally gets to the front and pays. Glimmer is still inspecting various cans of way too expensive energy drinks so she calls out, “Hey, princess, you coming?”

The cashier and some of the other customers look at her with sweet smiles when she walks past them and only then does she realize “princess” could be seen as a pet name. _Stupid_. Her cheeks heat up and she hurries out the door to wait for Glimmer there.

The air is still cold, the rain is coming down harder by the second. They’ll have to find somewhere to spend time until it stops raining. Without her helmet, the drops hit her head-on and she almost crashed into an oncoming car on the way to the gas station because she could barely see. That’s gonna be how she dies, hitting a truck because she couldn’t see it. 

She smooths her hair down with one hand. It’s wet and sticking to her face and now her hand is wet, too. She groans and wipes it on her pants… which are also wet. She curses just as Glimmer walks up next to her with two cans of Prime Energy. 

“Is something wrong?”

“I hate rain.”

They stand in silence for a minute. 

Catra is starting to get anxious. The early morning hours, the lack of sleep and the fact that she didn’t take her meds are catching up to her. She clenches and unclenches her fists repeatedly and takes deep breaths. She closes her eyes and pushes the tangible worries all the way down, bottles them up. She’s good at that, ignoring her feelings and shoving them down somewhere she doesn’t have to acknowledge them. A general feeling of unease stays behind, though. 

Glimmer’s voice pulls her back into reality.

“Hey, are you ok?” she asks. Her head is tilted to one side and her brows furrowed. She actually looks concerned. 

_Like she’d be concerned about some stranger_, Catra’s mind supplies, _she’s just with you because it’s convenient. After all, that’s why you tolerate her, too isn’t it? Because you’re afraid of dying alone._

She digs her nails into her palms and exhales sharper than intended. “Yes.” 

More silence.

“We should find a place to wait out the rain. I can’t drive in this weather.” If she hadn’t been as impulsive when leaving home, she could drive now. She scoffs at her own thoughts and looks around. There aren't a lot of shelters around them but the back of the station might provide some. 

Glimmer sighs when they sit down underneath the little shelter behind the gas station. The weather really is terrible and she's glad Catra decided not to drive in it. The fact that she's still alive helps, too. 

She has 19 hours left, she thinks. She really should call her mom. She deserves to know even if it'll hurt her. 

Glimmer gets out her phone and opens her contacts. 

She hesitates. 

Mom is probably still asleep but that's not what bothers her. Not really. There's something else about telling her about this that doesn't sit quite right with Glimmer, though she can't put a finger on exactly what it is. It's not like she chose to die today, is it? She's not a failure for dying this young…

Right?

Oh, who is she kidding? Of course, she's a failure compared to her mother! She always is. This is just the cherry on top. There's no way she could be as perfect, as impeccable, as smart as her mother. It's even in the name, Angella, an angel. How could _Glimmer_ compete with that? Just a li'l sparkle and that's it. Nothing more.

She's still staring at the screen when a hissing noise snaps her out of her thoughts.

Her head whips around and her gaze lands on Catra, nonchalantly leaning against the wall with a now open can in her hand.

Catra glances over at her with a raised eyebrow.

“Sorry, were you having a moment or something?” she asks.

Glimmer scoffs. _Having a moment? I'm sorry for having feelings! Unlike some people_… “Yes, actually, I was.”

“Welp,” Catra takes a long sip from the can, “I'm having a drink.”

Glimmer growls, a rather unfortunate habit she picked up from the puppy she had as a child and hasn't been able to shake, and turns back to her phone. Resolutely, she presses Call on her mom's contact.

Angella answers on the fifth ring, she sounds weirdly attentive for someone who just woke up. “What is it, Glimmer? Is something wrong?”

"Hey… mom… I just… wanted to tell you that I love you and-" 

She is cut off by her mom sighing at the other side, "What did you do this time?" 

What did she do this time? As if she only ever called her mom when she messed something up. Admittedly, usually she did need help with a situation she brought on herself but some faith would be nice. 

“I didn't do anything but as I was saying…” She took a deep breath. It would be painful but not as painful as it would be for her mom if she didn't tell her. “I love you and I'm sorry and…” her voice cracks, “I got the alarm. Death Cast,” she whispers and, holding her breath, she waits for the response.

The silence seems to stretch endlessly, only broken by the rain on her side. Finally, the sound of a phone hitting the table and a muffled sob reaches Glimmer's ears. She takes that moment to look around again. Catra is still leaning against the wall, her head turned slightly down towards Glimmer. The rain is down in waves and a puddle is forming right in front of their little shelter.

“Glimmer.” The sound makes her snap back to the call. “Glimmer, this is not funny.”

She doesn't want to argue about it, not today. “No, it's not,” she says instead.

A beat of silence.

“You're not joking…”

“No, I'm not jo- Why would I joke about this? What the hell, mom! Do you really think I'd do something like that? You-” she catches herself. No fighting. “No, wait, you know what? Nevermind, not today.” While she does get her volume under control, her tone remains aggressive. 

Regret is seeping into her. Maybe calling wasn't a good idea after all. She's about to end the call when her mother speaks up again.

“You're right. I'm sorry. I know you would not go as far as that. I suppose, I was just… hoping it's not true.”

Glimmer gulps. _Mom took a step forward, now it's my turn._

“It- It's ok, I get it. We're both upset.”

A sigh, then, “Are you at home? Or somewhere safe? Can you come here?”

“No, I'm not at home, Mom, but I am safe,” _more or less_, she adds internally. 

“Is Bow with you? Or Adora?”

“No, but I am with someone, don't worry.” She glances over at Catra. “I don't want them to possibly see… Anyway, I'm with a Last Friend, a decker too, so if she's responsible for my death you won't have to go on a manhunt.” Her attempt at a joke falls flat. Her mom doesn't laugh and Glimmer starts fidgeting nervously with the zipper of her jacket. 

There's a noise Glimmer can't identify at the other end of the line and then her mother's voice is back, laced with worry, she's failing to hide. “So you're with a stranger? Glimmer, that's dangerous! I want you to come home to me this instant!”

Next to Glimmer, Catra shifts audibly, her full attention now seemingly on her Last Friend.

“I don't think that's possible, Mom,” she replies in a voice smaller than she'd like. She is aware that spending her End Day with a stranger is risky, she doesn't need her mom to tell her that. Plus, she isn't a little kid anymore. Yet, the way her mom talks to her, the way she orders her home, wakes some kind of childhood instinct, the wish to see her again in fear it could be the last time. The present part of her mind can't imagine going back to her old home in the full knowledge that she won't be allowed to leave again once she's there. After spending most of her childhood cooped up under her mother's watchful eyes, she doesn't want to—can't— spend her End Day in the same place, both emotional and physical, too. “We can meet up somewhere later though, if you want?”

“You can't possibly think that to be a good idea,” her mom shoots back immediately, “There is no guarantee that… things will work out until then! I want you to come home as soon as possible!”

“There's no guarantee that I'll make it that far either, Mom! And then you'll just feel guilty and blame yourself! I know you will, just like with Dad!” She's working herself up over this again, she knows. And she knows she shouldn't. Bringing her dad into this is a low blow, even for her but she's angry now. Not fighting be damned, if her mom insists on treating her like a child, she has the right to act out like one. It's what defines their relationship. And at this point, Glimmer isn't sure she can be an open book with her mom without yelling like they end up doing too many times anyway. 

“Then stay put!” A muffled sob. “And I'll come get you! I'll make sure you are safe even if it's the last thing I'll ever do!” She's crying audibly at this point.

“What if that's the last thing I'll ever do, Mom? Be locked in a room you deem safe while you hover over me like I'm a little kid? That's the way it's been for years! Please, let me have this, let me just have this one day!” Her emotions are running wild. She's not sure what she's feeling the most of; dread, fear, anger… hope that just this once her mom will listen to her? 

Only now does she notice that she's crying, too. Her breathing is choppy and tears run down her face. She uses her free hand to wipe them away but more keep coming. Her breaths come fast and irregular. She can't stop them either.

Catra's breathing becomes louder, more noticeable. Or was that just Glimmer's warped perception from crying? But the sound is the only stable thing for her right now, so she clings to it. She focuses on it and slowly, her breathing is almost in time with Catra's. Catra nods, Glimmer almost doesn't notice it, and her breathing quiets down again.

Before Glimmer can't process what just happened, her mom speaks again. “I'm just trying to protect you!”

“You can't protect me from this, Mom! This is it. I'm going to die-” It's the first time she's used the word for herself and somehow that makes it hit as hard as when she first heard it herself. She almost chokes on it. 

“I can try!” 

Suddenly the phone leaves her hand. Glimmer looks down to see if in her stupor she dropped it. She can't see the device anywhere on the concrete. Through the fresh tears in her eyes, she looks up at Catra, just as she starts talking.

“Look, ma'am, I don't know what you got going on there but I don't think it's working or appreciated.”

Glimmer is too shocked by the way Catra speaks to her mom to do anything about it. Her emotions are still all over the place. Somewhere she is thankful Catra took over. 

“This isn't about you. Sparkles here knows it's her End Day and she seems like a responsible enough person to stay out of trouble. Besides, protected or not, nothing today will be safer than anything else.”

Glimmer can't hear her mom's reply but she knows it's not a nice one. The way Catra keeps going makes her think, she must be used to this kind of conversation.

“I don't know who you think your daughter is but from what I've seen of her, she's not going down easy so you can keep that “oh but she's just a child” bullshit to yourself. Even if she was just a child, you wanna keep her from fulfilling her last wishes? You wanna make her miserable on her End Day?”

There's an uncomfortable silence spreading after those words. They were harsh and Glimmer wonders if she sounded like that when she accused her mom of locking her in. She scowls at Catra, hoping to get her message—_Lay off! Don't say that!_—across. 

Catra rolls her eyes, but that glint in her eyes that said murder vanishes. Her voice is softer, too, when she takes up the conversation again. “It's just one day. Give her a few hours, I'm sure she'll come visit at some point. I won't stop her.”

She lowers the phone and scowls at the screen. Her expression is one Glimmer can't quite pinpoint, there's a version of pain in there she's only seen a few times on even fewer people before, each time after she fought with her mom. 

Then Catra sighs. The expression leaves her face as she tosses the phone back into Glimmer's hands. She smoothes her hair down and leans back against the wall. She slowly slides down until she's sitting next to Glimmer. They sit in silence for a while. The rain is slowly letting up, the rain drops shrinking in size. The mood seems to lighten with the sky.

The phone screen is blank apart from the time. 5:24 am. 

Glimmer opens her energy drink. The exhaustion of crying mixing with the tiredness of getting up at one in the morning. She can smell it before it's even open all the way. 

“Your mom's overprotective.”

The statement stands in the air. Glimmer doesn't know how to respond without being awkward. She's replaying Catra's words in her head over and over. _She seems like a responsible enough person to stay out of trouble_. After trespassing onto a cemetery that seems like a lie but who is she to say what Catra deems responsible.

“Yeah, she's always been like that.”

There's that sigh. She knows that one from Adora. She hears it sometimes when she complains about her mom even though Adora tries to hide it. 

“_I guess I'm a little jealous?_” Adora replied when Glimmer asked about it. 

She doesn't know a lot about Catra so she can't say it for sure but Glimmer has the feeling, Catra didn't have a happy childhood. She'll have to lighten the mood if she ever wants to escape that feeling.

“She didn't even let me dye my hair before I moved out even though I was already 18 at the time,” she smiles at the memory of her mom's face when she showed up, not even two days after moving out with her hair dyed hot pink. “I did it before getting all of my furniture sorted when I found an apartment.”

Catra looks at her, slightly amused. Her scowl is turned into a curious half-smile. “You dyed your hair? What color?”

“Um… pink?” She's not sure why Catra asks when they're sitting right next to each other and she could just look—like she's doing already. Maybe it's just too dark or the color too faded. “Is it not visible anymore?” She tries to pull her hair down in front of her eyes and squints at it.

“I wouldn't know,” Catra answers. 

Glimmer shoots her a confused look.

“I'm colorblind,” she supplies. “Come on, the rain's stopped, let's leave.”

The rain hasn't stopped completely yet but Catra gets up anyway. When she scrunches up her face as the light rain hits her, Glimmer laughs. Catra grumbles under her breath but keeps walking. Swinging one leg over her bike, she looks at Glimmer the same way she did when they first met.

“Where to?”

Glimmer steps up to her. “Let's do something illegal,” she says.

Catra straightens up, surprise obvious in her expression and voice. “What happened to _No we can't climb the fence! That's trespassing!_, huh?”

Glimmer just shrugs as she gets on behind Catra.

“Do you have anything in mind?”

She shrugs again. “Not really.”

“Good.” Catra starts the engine. “I do.”

They're off before Glimmer can even start to wonder what Catra has in mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had so many breakdowns writing Angella, it's unreal
> 
> I already started on the next chapter so let's hope it doesn't take another 11 months.


	7. Interlude - Scorpia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scorpia swore she's spend her loved ones' End Days with them. And yet, she let Catra leave. Why did she...?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is not beta-read, it's not even alpha-read, I just scanned if anything was underlined red.
> 
> Writing the first half of this chapter hurt even more than Angella last chapter and I cried so much.
> 
> I hope to get the next chapter up in two weeks again, but no promises.

Interlude

Scorpia

3 a.m. 

Death-Cast did not call Scorpia today because she isn't dying today. Her best friend, however, is. It has only been a few minutes since Catra left but it feels like hours.

Scorpia hasn't been able to move from her position by the door. Going away means accepting that Catra's not coming back and she's not ready for that yet. Moving feels hard, too, like if she moves one muscle she will break down. She is vaguely aware of Entrapta going on about something, she's not sure if she can't understand her because of the tension in her brain that seems to be the only thing holding her upright or because it's too scientific. For once, she doesn't care.

Scorpia's lost people before. When granddad died she cried in her moms' arms. When Uncle Pointy died, Mama and her cried in each other's arms. Those were before Death-Cast. She only found out once it was too late. When Death-Cast appeared, Scorpia swore she'd spend her loved ones' End Days with them. And yet, she let Catra go. Why did she…?

The tears are back and with them sobs that shake her entire body. She barely manages to drag herself to the couch before dissolving into a mess of tears and snot. She is full on ugly-crying but she can't stop, doesn't want to stop. Maybe if she cries herself out now, she can see her Wildcat again later without breaking down. She hopes she can.

That's when she decides to find her, even if Catra doesn't want her to. She can't risk her best friend dying alone. Wildcat's spent enough days wandering the streets all alone, her End Day should not be one of them. 

Scorpia's not sure when but at some point Entrapta must have started piling up chocolate and tissues on the coffee table. They almost topple over as Scorpia gets up. She makes a mental note to thank her roomie and grabs a tissue box. 

Driven by this new determination, she walks straight to the kitchen to get her phone. According to the microwave clock she's been crying for almost 45 minutes. It's been an hour since Catra left. She ought to have checked in with them by now. She'll get anxious if Scorpia doesn't text back soon.

She checks her phone.

No new messages.

No missed calls.

She puts the phone back down, grounds herself with deep breaths, tries not to break down again.

Wildcat is probably still driving. She likes to drive in tense situations, it helps her calm down. She's just still driving, that's why she hasn't texted yet. Scorpia is sure of it (at least she tells herself that). After all they've been through together, all of the falling apart and rebuilding and growing, Catra wouldn't ghost them. Not again.

Scorpia grabs her phone again, opens her messages and starts typing. 

💛Wildcat💙 

Hey, just wanted to check in, I hope you're still doing ok. 

Text me back when you see this? Stay strong, Wildcat!

** FREE MSG: You cannot send messages to the destination that is blocked by the owner. **

No, no, no, no, no. Scorpia's heart sinks. This can't be. Catra wouldn't. She tries again and again and again but the result stays the same.

Catra has blocked her number.

Scorpia blinks away the tears. No crying. 

She opens Instagram, checks Catra's public profile, then her private. Nothing. Twitter, the second she opens the app, she sees her. The post is less than an hour old. Not too many people have interacted yet. It's the kind of crude and morbid humor Catra likes to use, the kind that makes Scorpia squirm. Right now, though? Right now, she's so happy to see it, she squeals.

Not being blocked on social media has to mean something, has to mean Catra will let them know how she's doing or at least let them check in on her. If she truly wanted to shut them out, she wouldn't have left them any way to reach her, like she used to do in what Scorpia tends to call the Dark Days. 

Scorpia doesn't comment under the post. Instead, she sends a message (or five) and puts her phone in her pocket. Catra has turned notifications for twitter messages off, she knows, but it's worth a shot.

“Entrapta!” she calls, “We're going to find Catra!”

Entrapta's head pops out from her room, a pair of big headphones only half on her head. “Well, she just left, so you might still catch her!”

“That was over an hour ago, but I appreciate the input.”

“Oh.” Entrapta walks out of the room, the headphones clatter to the floor as she moves out of the cable's reach. “Do you want me to track her phone?”

It takes Scorpia a moment to process what her roommate just suggested. To be honest, she has completely forgotten that tracking someone was possible despite living with someone who is probably tracking at least five people at all times. 

“You can do that?”

“Well, I can try. Catra did ask me to make sure no one could track her phone after all. But it's using my software, so it might be possible.”

“Let's do this!” _And let's do it fast before I feel bad about invading Wildcat's privacy like that._

Tracking her felt wrong, but Scorpia's only alternative was finding out where the video from the tweet was recorded and hoping Catra would still be there. Finding her that way would be unlikely at best, impossible at worst. 

Scorpia is almost in Entrapta's room when she's stopped. 

“I'm hacking into the Death-Cast system on my computer, I'll have to borrow yours,” Entrapta explains matter-of-factly, as she climbs over the backrest of the sofa and plops down.

“You're hacking Death-Cast?”

“Yes, but don't worry, it's safe.” Entrapta has already unlocked the laptop when Scorpia sits down next to her. She's connecting a tablet and two phones to it while Scorpia is still wondering how Entrapta knew her password. A black tab opens on the screen. It's filled with green text, though Scorpia has no idea what any of it means.

Entrapta starts typing and soon more tabs open, one over the other. It looks confusing but Entrapta doesn't seem to have any problems so Scorpia lets her work in peace.

It takes several minutes of only the sound of a keyboard clacking before Entrapta starts mumbling to herself. Scorpia can't make anything out and she's not sure whether it's good mumbling or bad. 

“Soo… do you know where she is, yet?”

“Hm? Oh no,” Entrapta stops typing but she doesn't face Scorpia, “I have to install some new software first, because like I said, Catra's phone can't be easily tracked.” 

She goes on to explain more about some kind of data and satellites and code, but Scorpia doesn't understand a word. She just hopes it doesn't take too much longer. 

@forcecatpain 

Hey, Wildcat, I hope you're still ok 

Please text me back when you see this 

We already miss you

Do you think we could meet up again later? 

Love you 💙

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no idea how to track anything can you tell
> 
> (I completely forgot what I initially wanted to put here, so uh... follow me on tumblr or whatever @lucasthetiger maybe I'll start posting again and yelling over this fanfic or my other AUs that I haven't gotten around to writing yet.)


End file.
